


Work Call

by Anonymous



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: F/M, Ineffable Bureaucracy (Good Omens), M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Other, Phone Sex, Sexting, Sexting poorly, obviously Gabriel is the one denied
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-31
Updated: 2019-07-31
Packaged: 2020-07-27 15:36:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20048410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: This is a prompt for the Gomens discord round-robin about Gabriel doing stupid and awful things. I got sexting, and decided to make it ineffable bureaucracy.A note on Beelz: I went with the 'Beemo method' for their pronouns, because that's what was apparently done in the script: cycling between 'he', 'she', and 'they'. And for anyone with possible Dysphoria on the subject (because goodness knows I've been unpleasantly surprised with dysphoria from fics myself), Beelz has a dick in this one.Also, Gabriel is submissive.





	Work Call

“And if any of you need anything….”

“Don’t fucking bother me about it, mmkay?”

Gabriel shut the door on the nervously nodding secretaries and covered it with locks with a wave. He took out his phone, looked at it, set it hurriedly on his desk, dusted himself off and readjusted his clothes. No one was there to see it, of course, but he seemed more confident nevertheless. He gave a winning wink to no one at all, and then and only then retrieved his phone and sent the message that had him in such a tizzy.

BEELZEBUB.

PRINCE OF HELL AND ‘LORD OF THE FLIES’ AS IT WERE.

As it is, Gabriel

ARE WE STILL ‘ON’ FOR TONIGHT?

Yes

WONDERFUL.

THIS A GOOD TIME TO START?

Yes

FAB!

Gabriel leaned on the edge of his desk and artfully mussed his hair.

I AM GOING TO "SEXT" YOU NOW.

Ok

I’LL START US OFF, THEN?

Im sure I couldnt stop you if I tried

GREAT!

I’LL SET THE SCENE FIRST.

Please, do

WE ARE SITTING ON A BED; FRESHLY WASHED AND MADE (DUH). I AM KNEELING IN FRONT OF YOU AND YOU’RE LAYING BACK ON THE PILLOWS. THERE’S AT LEAST LIKE, FOUR, AND THEY MATCH THE BEDSPREAD (ALSO DUH). I SUPPOSE WE CAN’T BE “AT MY PLACE OR YOURS”, AS ‘THEY’ SAY, SO (1/2)

(2/2) LET’S SAY WE’RE IN A TASTEFUL B&B IN ITALY. NORTH ITALY, NOT SOUTH; TOO HUMID FOR MY HAIR, YOU KNOW? I AM WEARING A LAVENDER SWEATER AND SLIM-LEG CAMEL COLORED SLACKS.

Ok

WHAT ARE YOU WEARING?

Must I

YES. THIS IS FOREPLAY, IT’S IMPORTANT.

Heaven

Black pants, white shirt, black shoes, then

Shirt has a high ruffle collar, im not wearing my medals

YOU CAN’T WEAR SHOES ON THE BED!!!

THESE SHEETS ARE EGYPTIAN COTTON.

Socks

FINE.

Sheer black ones

OF COURSE. SHOULD I GET THIS ‘THING’ STARTED, THEN, SEXY?

Im not even sure if I appreciate you asking

Get on w/ it then

ALSO, PLEASE NOTE THAT THE SHEETS ARE TIFFANY BLUE.

I BEGIN TO TAKE OFF MY SWEATER. IF YOU WERE HERE YOU'D PROBABLY NOTICE THAT IT'S ARMANI.

WELL. NOT ARMANI. I DECIDED TO MAKE MY OWN HOLY REPLICA, BECAUSE THEY HAD NO SHADES THAT REALLY BROUGHT OUT MY EYES QUITE RIGHT YOU KNOW.

I KNOW I’VE ALREADY TOLD YOU THAT I TOOK THEM FROM THAT LOVELY HUMAN WHO'S NAME I FORGOT. WELL, AND YOU'VE SEEN EM! GORGEOUS. RIGHT?

TOTALLY UNIQUE.

SO, OF COURSE I LIKE, HAAAVE TO MATCH THEM WELL.

THUS THE SWEATER.

I get it

Get naked, pansy-eyes

OK, OK! HA. SOUND’S LIKE SOMEONE’S EXTRA……….

HORNY, TODAY!

(DRUM EMOJI)

Fuck off

HEY NOW, DON’T MAKE ME CALL YOU A ‘TSUNDERE’ AGAIN.

BECAUSE I WILL.

ok, Heavens

Back to the sweater

RIGHT!

I HAVE TAKEN OFF THE SWEATER DESCRIBED, NOW YOU CAN SEE MY ABS.

THEY'RE GREAT ABS, BY THE WAY. DON'T THINK IVE BEEN JOGGING ANY LESS JUST BECAUSE THE APOCALYPSE WAS POSTPONED.

"LEG DAY EVERY DAY" AS THEY SAY.

THEY BEING HUMANS.

UNLESS YOUR FOLK SAY THAT?

I hope not

NEVERTHELESS, THE SWEATER JOINS MY ACCESSORIES ON A NEARBY CHAISE WITH A MINOR MIRACLE SO I DON’T HAVE TO GET UP, BECAUSE NOTHING IS TOO GOOD FOR YOU, BABY. YOU CAN SEE MY TONED CHEST NOW TOO, ESPECIALLY BECAUSE I AM FLEXING TO BEST SHOW OFF EVERYTHING.

Gabriel

Take out your prick already (1)

Gabriel drops his phone, which bounces off of the overly shiny floor of his office with a squeak. He scrambles for it, face on fire, looking back at the message like it’ll explain itself.

It doesn’t.

OUT?

Of your pants.

OH, RIGHT. PANTS.

THEY’RE ALSO ARMANI. FELT LIKE MATCHING TODAY, YOU KNOW?

And they have a cock in them, hopefully, which is what we are here for, Gabriel

RIGHT OF COURSE, AND THANK YOU BY THE WAY FOR REMEMBERING MY USUAL CHOICE OF GENITALS.

Gabriel felt his face heat when he clicked send, and quickly wrote another message.

NOT THAT I LIKE, HAVE A PREFERENCE.

OR DO THIS OFTEN OR EVER.

There is a pause, in which Gabriel does little else but stare in a panic, before his phone buzzes again.

The next message from Beezlebub wasn’t words at all, but a picture.

A picture of a cock. Beezlebub’s. And it seems like she went with a human one today. They were pressing it to their stomach so the fat, flushed head was on display. It looked about as angry as its owner.

With Beezlebub’s effort for the day now known and available to flesh out Gabriel’s fantasy, and all of the blood in his body seemingly hurrying to his groin to get on with that fantasy, ASAP, he struggled to think of a suitable response.

COOL

SEX RIGHT, NOW?

Yeah, sure

LIKE REAL SEX, TOO, NOT JUST THE ROLEPLAY?

K

Rub your frenulum for me? Little spot neath the head

I KNOW WHAT IT IS, BABE!

Are you doing it

YES1

!*

HAHA, TYPO.

Neither of them remark on the seamless transition to Beez calling the shots once they get sick of Gabriel’s dime novel narrations and actually start.(2)

Gabriel looks nervously at the door, locked as it is, and a few more bolts appear in the few remaining bare spots. Then, he unzips his pants, too nervous to even appreciate how well they compliment the underwear that he’d hand-picked for today before pulling them down. His own sex was the same as it always was- devastatingly perfect in size and shape; not remotely unusual in any possible way.

He’d been excited all day on and off, which isn’t as much a problem for a being of variable shape like himself at work, but he flushed with embarrassment at the sight of the pretty red briefs(3) he’d magicked up tented already, though he’d only just made an effort when he locked the door. Even a little bit damp where the head pressed against the soft fabric. More shy than Beezlebub, he cupped his hand around the bulge and pressed against himself lightly, shivering.

Are you actually doing it or looking at yourself

Gabriel fumbles his phone again, scarlet-faced.

YEAH BABE!

Hurriedly, he pulls out his erection, shivering again as his cock is exposed, and rubs the desired spot. At first it feels good, really good- and he sighs and gives the ceiling what he imagines is a very sexy look. But as he keeps repeating the motion, phone silent, it….. still feels good, but a hot frustration in his gut starts competing with the feeling. For while (about 5 minutes, actually) he stays put, hoping Beelzebub will get on with it, but eventually can’t help but pipe up.

BEES.

Damn autocorrect! Typing on a phone with one hand was hard.

CANI CALL?

In lieu of a response, his phone starts ringing. He fumbles it again in surprise before managing to press accept and smacking it to his ear.

“Hey. Beelz?”

“Don’t call me Bees.”

“Ha! That was a typo. Kinda-ah. Kinda busy, you know.” Gabriel’s patience ran out. “Can I do something else with my hand?”

“Depends. Did you only call to whine?”

Gabriel stops. Come to think of it, he DID only call to whine. He tries to think of a better excuse. It’s near impossible, though, since he’s still rubbing his frenulum, and the feeling of frustration was like, _really_ frustrating now.

“H-haaow would you like a picture of my penis?” Gabriel finally says. He smiles, blushing too much for it to be winningly, and no one sees it anyway.

“You don’t send pictures by calling someone.”

But Gabriel was already ignoring them, wrestling with the phone to bring up the camera during the call, then trying to arrange himself in the most appealing way possible. He’d already leaked a slick spot of precum onto his stomach, but he didn’t want to hide his abs after talking them up. What if Beelzebub thought he was lying about the jogging? Gabriel tilted his now-swollen cock a few different ways, but there was really no hiding how wet he was. He was far too antsy to spend as much time as he normally would obsessing over camera angles anyway, so he finally just sent 3 of the best shots. He hoped they showed off his dick well- he’d spent a few days designing it, after all.

There was a pause that was really very short, but to Gabriel felt like an eternity.

“Really is red, isn’t it.”

Beelzebub’s statement was dull, crass and disagreeable as always, but his voice was huskier, just a little.

Gabriel felt the hot frustration flare into a sort of weird spasm at the sound, and he answered with a noise that was like, totally not suave enough for him. He wanted to say he hated it, but it was too good a feeling to hate. Good, and terrible, and oh, heaven-on-fire but he really_ really_ wanted to move his hips or hands or _something_ now.

He told Beelzebub as much.

“Stop yelling. Hells.”

“Sorry. Hah. Look just- please? I’m- ah, I’m begging, here. That’s a kinky thing to do, you know? You should be proud you g. uh, got me to! I should be rewarded. Maybe? Please? …S- ah, said it again, there.”

“Shut up.”

Oh, Beelzebub was growling, now. Gabriel snapped his mouth shut immediately, hips jerking into his hand once without his permission. He decided not to mention it. In the ensuing silence he could hear some rustling on the other end.

“Getting comfortable? What brand are your pants?”

Gabriel heard a thump. “Fuck.” Beelzebub swore. “What? Oh, for- they don’t have a brand you idiot, they’re magic.”

Beelzebub paused.

“…..Didn’t I tell you to shut up?”

“Sorry, babe, you’re just so…. sexy.”

Beez sighed long-sufferingly, and didn’t even bother to comment on the fact that it made no sense that that meant discussing clothing brands. But he sounded just a touch smug when she spoke again.

“Alright, then. Go on and touch yourself if you really can’t wait. Still not the head, though.”

Gabriel was at first too excited to even think about that stipulation, bucking greedily into his own fist. He hoped vaguely that his expressions were still sexy.

But as good as it felt to finally squeeze himself, after teasing such a sensitive spot for so long he soon grew frustrated again. Hell, it was like Beelzebub had planned it.

Oh, right. They probably had.

Gabriel didn’t want to push the envelope this time, though. Or did he? He really did like that tone of voice. But if he annoyed her too much, they might leave. And oooh, Gabriel did not want him to leave.

“What?” Beelz finally said. “Not gonna talk anymore?”

“You w-uh- want me to keep begging you?”

Beez growled in annoyance. There was a pause, in which Gabriel could hear the unmistakable slick sound of them also touching themselves. It thrilled him, but he stayed quiet.

“Yeah.” She said, finally, voice low. “Why don’t you do that.”

Ooh.

“Please let me touch myself?” Gabriel tried, although the sweet tone he was attempting was ruined by his obvious arousal.

Beelzebub huffed. “You begging to?”

“Yes. Yeah, uh. D. Definitely begging.”

“Then yeah. Do whatever you want.”

The sour words were like balm from heaven.

“Ok.” Gabriel gasped. “Thank you.”

As soon as he was allowed to stroke himself fully Gabriel lost the losing battle with his composure, moaning embarrassingly. His cockhead was so sensitive that it almost hurt to rub, little shocks of pleasure shooting up his cock from the friction. He’d grown wet enough that his frantic strokes were spattering drops of precome on the floor.

He’d finally been brought to the point of forgetting to think about his expression. If Beelzebub had been there, she’d see him beet red, hair sticking to his forehead and mouth hanging open as he fucked his fist.

As it was, Gabriel could hear the now familiar sound of them growling through clenched teeth. Beelz was worked up too. Fuck.

Suddenly, Gabriel realized he was very close to coming. He tried to say as much a few times, but couldn’t quite get the words out, and couldn’t seem to stop his hips, either.

Not that it kept Beelz from noticing.

“What? You close already? Gonna come all over your belly or your shiny office floor?” He all but spat, breathing hard herself.

“Yeah babe.” Gabriel gasped, head spinning with relief that they had understood him without him needing to explain. “Y- Yeah, close, fuck, yeah-”

“Then take your hand of your filthy little cock.” Beelzebub absolutely snarled suddenly, cutting him off.

Gabriel’s body obeyed that tone of voice immediately, hand jerking away like he’d been burned before his scattered brain could even parse the words. He couldn’t stop the loud, pathetic whine he made at the denial, though.

He was rewarded by hearing what was Beelz definitely coming with a tight, desperate groan of his own at the sound of Gabriel’s submission. In a tortured haze, unable to disobey and touch himself, he listened to Beelz’ throaty, half-stifled moans as they slowly petered out.

Only after Beelzebub settled into labored breathing could Gabriel hear himself wimpering, hips jerking into empty air, cock beet-red and drooling. He was helpless. He wanted to come. He wasn’t sure he wouldn’t have already if he’d gotten permission. Sudden fear that they’d not let him at all filled his mind, and he found the will to beg, not even caring how small his voice was.

“Please. Please, please, Beelz.”

Beelz responded, out of breath and maybe a little less grouchy than average. To Gabriel, he sounded like god’s love herself.

“Go on, then.” 

Gabriel barely got his hand on himself again before he was coming as well with a variety of embarrassing noises, eyes rolling back in his head. Completely without the presence of mind to not make a mess of himself, his cock spurted again and again onto his own chest and belly. A rope even got on his chin.

As he shivered through the last aftershocks, the line grew quiet as both of them lay there for a moment catching their breath. Gabriel felt boneless- almost bodiless, and warm.

Eventually, though, the come drying on his face grew uncomfortable. With an absent wave, he cleaned himself up, then went to retrieve his pants.(4) He could hear Beelzebub righting herself too, probably doing the same. 

He turned back to his desk languidly.

“So.”

With another wave, Gabriel conjured himself a mimosa. He lazily dragged a pile of paperwork towards himself and cradled the phone in his shoulder as he spoke to them again.

“How was work?”

1: Beelzebub’s sudden impatience was caused by the fact that they’d been ‘sexting’ while walking around and working up until that point. During that time, they’d had reason to humor Gabriel, but they’d just got back to their own office and were ready to get on with it.

2: They never do.

3: He’d picked the color because he thought Beez would find it clever, but forgot to mention them. And Beez probably wouldn’t have been impressed anyway.

4: The sweater may have been magic, but those pants sure weren’t. And Gabriel hadn't paid a sum for them that was more scandalous than the whole of this fanfiction to let them get wrinkly.


End file.
